


Of Love and Efficiency

by scatteredmoonlight



Category: Star Trek: Voyager
Genre: F/F, Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-02
Updated: 2018-08-02
Packaged: 2019-08-17 12:03:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,486
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16516121
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scatteredmoonlight/pseuds/scatteredmoonlight
Summary: After a boring work day, Kathryn and Seven enjoy a quiet dinner alone. Seven makes efficient use of this time.





	Of Love and Efficiency

Kathryn consulted with Neelix over replicator rations and an upcoming birthday surprise party for Reggie Alvarado, an ensign in engineering with a sharp, keen eye for transport repairs. In the last mail delivery from Starfleet, his sister sent a letter about Mathilda, his two year old niece born during Voyager’s journey, who caught a cold and sneezed into the pot of their mother’s renowned Bolognese sauce. He’d been slower on the repairs the following week. But Kathryn wasn’t having it. She couldn’t send him to Earth any faster, but that didn’t mean arrangements couldn’t be made to affirm Voyager’s appreciation for his sacrifices.

“I _could_ replicate the cake mix,” said Neelix as he stirred the sputtering Talaxian mystery stew over the stove’s flickering flame, “ _however_ , there’s nothing better than fresh ingredients.”

“Even so, there’s nothing like the tastes that remind us of our childhoods,” said Kathryn, “and I have it on good authority that store bought cake mixes are just as good.”

Neelix bristled. “Cakes in boxes. It’s just a precursor to replicators.”

Kathryn smiled, endeared. They’d been running circles around this topic. Neelix refused to bake the cake from a store bought mix. While Kathryn had to admit that Neelix’s cake, comprised of unreplicated fresh ingredients, would taste richer, ensign Alvarado had once expressed a deep appreciation for his father baking cakes from mixes for every family birthday. A taste of home, the perfect remedy.

She readied a halfhearted retort. “How about this, Neelix? Just one—”

But the words died on her tongue. The doors slid open, Harry entering the cafeteria in animated conversation with no one else but Seven of Nine.

It was like a light burst, shone its rays over the darkest shadows and brought life into the room. For the sliver of an instance, Kathryn didn’t drift through the motions of the work day, a little banter between Tuvok and Tom here, a hint of some vital but fixable malfunction in engineering there. And her personal favorite, a round of “unidentifiable space matter or cloaked alien vessel?” Which hadn’t happened yet today, and she resisted the urge to knock on wood. Bustling with energy and endless chatter already, the cafeteria’s racket only heightened, the energy stronger now with Seven. She didn’t look any different: Same impassive expression, Borg implant framing her inquisitive stare. Her uniform had always accentuated her figure, but suddenly Kathryn’s eyes were draw to the tight curve of her waist, the frame of her breasts. Kathryn’s eyes trailed over Seven, hypnotized by the light she brought to the cafeteria.

A hand waved over Kathryn’s face.

“Captain? Hellooo there, anybody home?”

Kathryn startled, glancing back at Neelix. “Sorry, I...”

She still crackled with an anticipation, felt the urge, the pull, to look back at the entrance to the cafeteria, to see Seven of Nine.

She’d felt this way before, many times. But this stir felt as strong as when she first met her fiancé, or former fiancé, rather. Kathryn clutched the countertop, forcing her full attention on Neelix, and spoke with a schooled, even voice. “About that cake mix,” she said, and the ensuing banter morphed into a mantra, coaxing her into a meditative state and away from any thoughts of Seven of Nine. They were having dinner together later tonight, after all. Best to keep her undivided attention on Neelix baking this cake.

* * *

 

The shift that day had been particularly draining. Nothing unusual or extraneous occurred, no emergency First Contact or a situation that needed rectifying. But still, it managed to bleed the life force out of Kathryn, the only remedy to soothe her a replicated glass of cabernet sauvignon from her great grand aunt’s family vineyard, some of Neelix’s delectable mystery stew with fresh vegetables they picked up from a class-M planet a week ago, and an evening of Seven of Nine’s humble company and expertly crafted sentences that always cut to the heart of a matter. Kathryn tipped her wineglass to nothing in particular and sipped, looking out the window of her private quarters and to the stars. The universe looked back, and she fancied it did so with a wink and a smile.

“Captain,” said Seven. “Penny for your thoughts?”

Kathryn sucked in a breath, and straightened herself before meeting the individualized woman. “My apologies, Seven. I was merely detoxing from the day.”

Seven’s fingertips settled over the neck of her wineglass, the level still high and relatively untouched. “Indeed. Today was a testament. I am...” She paused, and Kathryn observed with avid interest as a little wrinkle revealed itself between Seven’s eyebrows as she frowned in consternation. “I eagerly awaited your company this evening, Captain. Did you as well?” The sudden intensity in her stare forced an inner strength Kathryn reserved for more diplomatic matters.

She didn’t know what to say. Of course she’d looked forward to this evening with Seven. Good food, good wine, good conversation—it’d helped her keep chugging along through the mind numbingly dull redundancies of a day where nothing helped, and yet her crew relied on her to stay ever vigilant in case that state of calm were eviscerated by a nefarious encounter. But at Seven’s question and that unfettered concentration she directed now at Kathryn, it unsettled Kathryn deeply to her core. Her stomach fluttered with what she understood to be nerves. But for what purpose?

“Yes,” Kathryn said, forcing herself almost. She drank a hint of wine to calm herself, as well as give her something minute to do. Then a curiosity rose up in her, unquenchable. She’d looked forward to meeting Seven, yes, and Seven, by her own admittance, had looked forward to meeting her. What had Seven done all day until this moment? What had made her long for quiet conversation in Kathryn’s quarters with wine and Neelix’s mystery soup? _Why_ did Kathryn feel like it was of upmost importance for her to know? She took another sip of wine, then asked Seven, “How was your day?”

Settled, poised. As if the woman beside her were still a Borg drone she needed to pacify.

“Acceptable, though it lacked a certain rigor. Did your day suffice?”

Her stomach quenched, but still she replied steadily. “Oh, same old, same old. Tuvok rebuffed some of Tom Paris’s inquisitions. That matter resolved itself on its own.”

“No one to report to the brig?”

Kathryn smiled. “Well, it came close. After so many years, Tom knows how to get to Tuvok.”

“Certainly.”

They steeped into a silence broken only by Seven’s wineglass clacking against her teeth as she drank. Kathryn’s gaze drifted to the stars again, blurred by the voyage home at warp 6.

“Captain?”

Kathryn jolted, then tempered herself. When she turned to regard Seven, it was with full and undivided attention.

“I enjoy these evenings, though infrequent,” said Seven.

“As do I.”

“I wish to make them more frequent.”

Kathryn wasn’t necessarily opposed. “Oh?”

“But I am also apprehensive.”

Kathryn abandoned the stars and wine, viscerally unsettled that a member of her crew felt disturbed in her presence. “Tell me, Seven. What can I do?”

Seven tapped a finger along the base of her wine. “These evenings bring me a deep sense of calm and contentment by virtue of your mere presence. I like to think you feel the same.”

“Oh, but I do.”

“I know. You commit yourself to everything you do. It is efficient. However, I—When I am here with you, it’s different than with the Doctor, Harry Kim, or other members of the crew. I seek you specifically. I acknowledge your absence in a room, and rejoice in your entrance. I wish to remain with you. Am I making sense?”

“Perfect sense.” The air weighed heavy in anticipation of further response, but Kathryn hesitated. She couldn’t lie to Seven. It went against Kathryn’s moral compass and she couldn’t do that to someone like Seven, someone who desperately needed a pillar of strength and stability in her life, when everyday still brought unexpected surprises and strife. And besides, Kathryn had longed for this evening.  “I—I feel the same, yes.”

Did she? She felt a devotion to her crew, of which Seven was a member. She vowed to be Seven’s pillar, to guide her through this tumultuous event of individuality brought back to her life. And she wanted Seven to simply rest and feel the warmth of companionship. Did she feel Seven’s absence, rejoice in her entrance? Well, Kathryn couldn’t be certain. But she had the stark realization that Seven’s absence once she left for regeneration tonight would feel more poignant than any prior evening. And today in the cafeteria—Why, Seven had been positively luminous.

“Would you like to come here for dinner again? Say, tomorrow evening?” asked Kathryn. Her heart beat quicker, and even faster when she realized that it pounded in fear of rejection.

“I’d be honored,” said Seven.

And that was that.


End file.
